The Gathering Storm
Gong Jeol-gang was a cultivator.
And not just any cultivator, but one of remarkably high standing—an elder of the Cheonsa Prison.
He had mastered orthodox immortal cultivation techniques,
earning him deep respect and a formidable reputation among his peers.
Naturally, his network of connections had been vast and diverse.
However, after his abrupt, desertion-like flight from the Cheonsa Prison, his access to that intelligence network had been completely severed.
His immediate priority had been to erase his tracks and conceal his identity.
Though he had once been a high-ranking elder of a powerful sect, he was now reduced to the status of a mere rogue cultivator.
He had no other choice.
There were masters within the Cheonsa Prison whose strength far eclipsed his own.
The Lord of the Cheonsa Prison, Du Heon-won, along with the other elders, were not opponents to be taken lightly.
If three or four of them were to hunt him down together?
Stripped of all backing—and with his master, Ilyang, currently away—Gong Jeol-gang would find himself in a dire predicament if his cover were blown.
Thus, he had meticulously erased every trace of his existence to survive.
But this extreme caution had also caused him to catch wind of a certain rumor circulating through the cultivation world much later than everyone else.
"What in the world..."
Cultivators possessed their own secret channels for trading goods and treasures.
It was none other than the black markets, which they operated covertly within the Jianghu, mirroring the practices of martial artists.
The initial phase of the Magic Tower's construction, which his master Ilyang had entrusted to him, had finally been completed.
Having delegated the subsequent tasks to the workers, Gong Jeol-gang had found himself with a brief window of free time.
Taking advantage of the respite, he had traveled to a nearby black market, arriving there just two days ago.
And it was there that he stumbled upon a rumor he had never anticipated.
"The... the Sayeol Bi-gyeong has opened?"
"Shh! Quiet! Heavens, fellow Daoist, where is your caution?"
"How can anyone remain calm about this? Where on earth did you hear such a rumor?"
Suppressing his racing heart,
Gong Jeol-gang adjusted the black mask concealing his face.
The cultivator clad in blue robes slipped the Clear Heart Pills he had just purchased from Gong Jeol-gang into his sleeve and whispered in a hushed tone.
"The rumor has already swept through the cultivation world. Practically everyone knows. Even the ordinary martial artists of the Jianghu have caught wind of it."
"Good heavens..."
"It spread with unnatural speed, that's for sure. Because of it, a bunch of foolish rogue cultivators with no backing are throwing themselves into the pocket dimension like moths to a flame."
"Are you saying these rogue cultivators have lost their minds over potential treasures and are blindly entering the Bi-gyeong?"
"And it's not just cultivators. I heard even ordinary martial artists are banding together to go inside. I was smart enough to steer clear of such madness, but as you know, this world is full of desperate fools willing to gamble their lives for a single spiritual herb or relic. A massive crowd of rogue cultivators has already rushed headlong into the Bi-gyeong. I hear their numbers are staggering."
"Mmm..."
Gong Jeol-gang had been utterly shocked when he first heard the news.
But as he regained his composure, he realized the gravity of the situation.
In the Jianghu, a Bi-gyeong was typically a prize claimed in secret by powerful cultivator sects with formidable backing, who would quietly reap its sweet rewards.
After all, they receive information about these pocket dimensions directly from their ascended ancestors in the Upper Realm.
Looking back at the records of the Cheonsa Prison,
information passed down by their ancestors had always been strictly classified.
They would dispatch a highly select group to quietly harvest the treasures.
Of course, they frequently clashed with other cultivator factions during these expeditions, resulting in the loss of valuable sect members.
Yet, the rewards always far outweighed the casualties.
For the cultivators who held the monopoly on this information, denying the very existence of a Bi-gyeong to outsiders was second nature.
But this time, even the most insignificant rabble knows about it?
Something was terribly wrong.
Alarm bells rang incessantly in his head.
Naturally, his thoughts turned to his master.
Will Master be alright?
Gong Jeol-gang was the only one who knew that Ilyang had set out for the Bi-gyeong.
The bandits at the stronghold believed Ilyang had merely gone on a brief excursion.
After all, the entity they truly feared was not Gong Jeol-gang, but Ilyang himself.
Keeping this information under wraps was of paramount importance.
If they realize the Little Divine Dragon of the Yangtze River has entered a pocket dimension and won't return for a long time...
More than a few of those bandits would immediately look for an opportunity to flee.
In truth, Gong Jeol-gang had already set out with all the sailing vessels at his disposal,
intending to purchase a massive stockpile of food and supplies to prepare for any contingency.
But that won't be enough. We must completely sever our connection with the outside world.
The duration for which a Bi-gyeong remained open varied,
but it was common for those who entered to be trapped inside for anywhere from a fortnight to half a year—sometimes even a full year.
It would be one thing if exploring the pocket dimension simply took time...
But with rumors of the Bi-gyeong spreading across the entire land?
A bloodbath of unprecedented proportions was bound to erupt inside.
"I must return."
Gong Jeol-gang quickly concluded his business.
Returning to the docks, he loaded the supplies, took command of the bandits, and set sail for Sunghwa Island.
I need to tighten the leash on those bandits.
Since it was highly likely that his master would be gone for an extended period,
he planned to bury the enslaved bandits under a mountain of grueling labor, leaving them with absolutely no energy to harbor thoughts of rebellion.
But that might not be enough. If necessary, I should sap their strength beforehand...
Perhaps he could mobilize the bandits to launch a campaign against the Wuryong Bandit Clan downstream.
With these turbulent thoughts swirling in his mind, Gong Jeol-gang sailed back toward Sunghwa Island.
An ancient, ruin-like structure came into Ilyang's view.
Built from remarkably sturdy sandstone, only the floor and a few pillars of the building remained.
Judging by its massive scale, it must have required an immense amount of labor to construct.
"No. That's not it. This is..."
Ilyang approached one of the shattered pillars and realized that this structure had not been built by mere physical labor.
"It's magic."
"Did you discover something?"
Ilyang gave a slight nod at Cheol Mu-geuk's question.
This place had been constructed by a fairly high-level mage.
At least a 5th-circle master.
Utilizing earth magic as a foundation,
one would need to be highly proficient in elemental magic to raise a structure of this scale.
It also have required an immense expenditure of mana.
With that thought, Ilyang began scanning the surrounding ruins, searching for something.
And then,
"Hmm..."
Ilyang knit his brows, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
"What is it? Have you found something troublesome?"
Watching Ilyang search the area alone and wear an increasingly grave expression, Cheol Mu-geuk felt a strong urge to press him for answers.
But I simply know too little about this place.
A Bi-gyeong was essentially a treasure chest claimed almost exclusively by cultivators.
On rare occasions, ordinary mortals—
meaning martial artists of the Jianghu—would get involved.
But those stories almost always ended in tragedy.
When he first learned that a Bi-gyeong had manifested within the Cheol family's territory,
Cheol Mu-geuk had strongly opposed getting involved.
However, Cheol Jeong-myeong, the patriarch of the Cheol family, could not let go of his greed.
He had pleaded with Cheol Mu-geuk, the family's strongest master, to investigate and explore the pocket dimension.
Still... we are incredibly fortunate.
Partnering with a mysterious cultivator like Ilyang to explore this place was, in hindsight, a massive stroke of luck.
Most cultivators harbored deep hostility toward ordinary mortals and martial artists alike.
Hmm. But seeing as we aren't contributing much of anything...
demanding half the spoils simply because they had discovered the entrance
felt incredibly shameless.
Just as Cheol Mu-geuk was lost in these thoughts,
Ilyang narrowed his eyes, staring off into the distance, and whispered softly.
"We need to run, Senior."
"Hmm?"
"Someone is coming from that direction. Roughly thirty people."
"Mmm..."
Cheol Mu-geuk's lips pressed into a tight line.
Without a moment's hesitation, he began to move, asking,
"Lead the way."
"Let's head left, just as we did before. We need to put as much distance as possible between ourselves and our entry point."
Though they were surrounded by nothing but endless desert sand, Ilyang had no fear of losing his way.
Because I have Geum-ok.
As long as Geum-ok, the spirit of wind, was with him,
even in this pocket dimension where the flow of mana was completely chaotic,
the probability of Ilyang getting lost was practically zero.
Ilyang nodded at Geum-ok's telepathic warning. He cast a simple spell on the ground beneath them,
then quickly caught up to Cheol Mu-geuk and his disciples.
I've erased our tracks, but will it be enough to fool them?
The approaching group reeked of blood, but more importantly, they were cultivators—a rare sight in this world.
Their energy was far purer than that of ordinary martial artists, making them impossible to miss.
Even if that pure energy is thoroughly tainted by the stench of blood.
In fact, the nature of their energy was highly familiar to Ilyang.
The Cheonhyeol Sect, was it?
The ones the Jianghu referred to as the Blood Sect.
The very same group that had clashed with the Mansi Sect was now swarming this pocket dimension, tearing it apart.
How did they get in? Was there more than one entrance?
Ilyang felt a pang of frustration at his lack of knowledge regarding these Bi-gyeong pocket dimensions.
Had he known, he would have questioned Gong Jeol-gang more thoroughly.
He had mistakenly equated it to a standard dungeon, and that assumption was now complicating matters.
Are they pursuing us?
He felt an uneasy premonition as they put distance between themselves and the ruins.
Unfortunately, his instincts were correct; the pursuers began moving in the exact direction Ilyang's group had taken.
"They are tracking us."
"Mmm..."
There was still a considerable distance between them.
At least half a day's travel.
However,
dragging a tail behind them in an unfamiliar territory was a terrible idea.
Who knows what other dangers lurk in this place.
Given the presence of the Cheonhyeol Sect, the possibility of other factions being present could not be ruled out.
It would be best to deal with them as quickly as possible.
"What do you suggest we do?"
Cheol Mu-geuk refrained from asserting his own opinions now that they were inside the Bi-gyeong.
This environment was fundamentally alien to a martial artist.
He had firmly resolved to place his trust entirely in Ilyang's judgment as a cultivator.
"Since we are maintaining our lead for now, let's keep moving while I formulate a plan."
"Very well."
Their pursuers were bound to tire eventually.
It would be ideal if they exhausted themselves first, but even if they didn't, there was no other immediate alternative.
With Geum-ok and myself, we would likely emerge victorious in a direct confrontation, but...
Ilyang stroked Geum-ok's soft fur, lost in thought.
A flawless victory was by no means guaranteed.
In a clash, he and Cheol Mu-geuk would likely survive unscathed.
But Cheol Mu-geuk's disciples—Yang Cheon-jo and the other two—were a different story.
Judging by the strength of the Cheonhyeol Sect members he had encountered in the past,
excluding myself, Geum-ok, and Senior Cheol, everyone else will die.
Reaching that conclusion left him feeling slightly vexed.
Thus, Ilyang continued to run in silence, turning various strategies over in his mind.
After running for nearly two hours,
Ilyang's eyes suddenly flashed as he gazed ahead.
An unexpected, highly useful variable had just appeared.